


this time, the loser wins

by fleetingtime



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Brief Descriptions of Dissociation, Brother-Sister Relationships, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Discussion of Memory Issues, Dysfunctional Family, Gen, Somewhat canon-compliant, but thats how it be sometimes, i kinda unnecessarily popped off in the second chapter, the jayroy is like one line at the very end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-14 18:11:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15394497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleetingtime/pseuds/fleetingtime
Summary: They were two sides of the same coin.  They understood each other.  It was nice.  It was a downright relief.  She’d never had a big brother before.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from the song [The Loser Wins by Atmosphere](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E0aAfXp9WAU)

Stephanie Brown could count the things she knows about Jason Todd on one hand - he was the second Robin (the first dead Robin), he was the Red Hood, he was presumably crazy, he attacked Tim, and he was currently locked in Arkham Asylum.  She’d learned all of that from Barbara, and a little bit from Tim, before Bruce kicked the bucket and nearly everyone skipped town.

Honestly, that was the only reason she was about to attempt this - no one was around to stop her, aside from Dick and Damian.  They didn’t really pay attention to her. And tonight just happened to be a night where Babs was focusing on some big Birds of Prey mission.  But even if Bruce or Barbara or even Cass _were_ there, they still wouldn’t be able to stop her.  Stephanie was nothing if not stubborn. 

There was a new human trafficking ring in the East End that targeted prostitutes.  After a few weeks of leg-work and interrogating henchmen, along with some grade A detective work that would’ve made Bruce proud (probably not, and it’s not like she cared either way), she found the second-in-command, a guy named Nicky O’Brien.  O’Brien used to run in the Red Hood’s gang. And thus, she found herself breaking into Arkham Asylum.  It was almost laughably easy.  No wonder breakouts happened every other week.  It wasn’t long before she stood in front of the cell, the cameras conveniently disabled.  The wall in front was glass, and there was an air-sealed door with a panel to slide food through.  Even in the dark, she could see the shape on the bed clearly enough. His back was turned to her.

He looked too still to be really asleep, but Stephanie wasn’t quite sure.  As she stood in the dirty and decrepit hallway of one of the worst places in America, staring at the back of a mass murderer, she finally let herself wonder if this was such a good idea.  She just stood there another moment, watching, maybe waiting to see if he would do anything, before she made her decision. She smothered the butterflies that were beginning to act up in her stomach, and hoping her hunch was right she said, “I know you’re awake.”

A few seconds dragged on, then a minute, then a couple of minutes, and Stephanie felt just a little bit foolish.  Then a sigh came from the bed, subtle enough that she could’ve imagined it though. The figure rolled over, and Steph froze with anticipation.  But he didn’t stand, just laid on his back, eyes closed and face turned towards the ceiling. She still couldn’t quite see his face, but the profile was enough to go by. 

“What do you want,” He asked flatly.  His voice was rough from disuse. It reminded Steph of Cass, back when the prior Batgirl was still struggling with words, and she wished it hadn’t.

He wasn’t even looking at her, but somehow that served to unsettle her more than if he had been.  It was ridiculous, because there was a wall of bulletproof glass in between them, guards only a few halls away, and she was armed with an entire utility belt of fun toys.  She had no reason to be even a little bit nervous.  She put her hands on her hips.  She felt oddly snubbed by the fact he wasn’t looking at her, hadn’t even opened his eyes, but she shouldn’t have expected anything less from him.  He was a crime lord, a murderer. He’d _attacked Tim._  And yeah, Stephanie could appreciate that Tim sucked sometimes, but still.  Not enough to warrant a baseless assault like that.

Realizing she’d been silent for too long, she said, “Nicky O’Brien.  Do you know the name?”

There was a pause from the man behind the glass.  “O’Brien,” He repeated, almost thoughtfully. “Can’t say I do.” 

It was bullshit, and they both knew it.  Stephanie scowled. “Wanna try that again?”

He scoffed, and her temper reared it’s head.  “He’s working directly under the leader of a human trafficking ring,” She snapped.  “Two nights ago, a woman named Carla Tang was found half-beaten to death near the docks.  She was a prostitute who had barely escaped with her life.”

There was a long silence, longer than the others.  It felt charged. Finally swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he sat up.  Instinctively, Steph’s hand went to where she kept her Batarangs. His gaze tracked to movement, and she mentally kicked herself. He stood up.  He walked up to the glass, and Stephanie prided herself on the fact that she didn’t take a step back.

He was taller than her, taller than Dick but shorter than Bruce, from what she could tell.  His skin was a good few shades lighter than hers, but something about the transluscentness of it told her that had more to do with where he was than with genetics.  There was a chunk of white at the front of his otherwise dark hair. His eyes were more green than blue, and there was a vacancy in them that made a chill go up her spine.  

She couldn’t see them very well, but there were scars here and there, more visible on his arms, and a particularly nasty one on his neck.  She wondered how he’d survived _that_ one.

He was… younger than she’d been expecting.  Objectively, she knew he wasn’t much older than her, but when she thought about the whole crime boss bit, that always made him seem older in her head.  As tall and muscular as he was, there was no denying how young his face was. Seeing it paired with prison - uh, _asylum_ fatigues, and the cacophony of scars made something twist in her gut.  Babs had told her that he’d been fifteen when he died. That made this whole situation seem a lot worse. 

 _He attacked Tim_ , she reminded herself.   _Nearly killed him.  He’s a crime lord._  

But… he also looked out for girls and kids.  Stephanie hadn’t been around in his prime, but she knew that much.  She also knew minor and petty crime had gone down while he’d been out. 

Jason Todd stared at her through narrowed eyes.  He crossed his arms. She mimicked him. He gave her a searching look, the corners of his mouth twitching down slightly.  “You used to be Spoiler, didn’t you?” He asked.

Stephanie blanched internally.  She didn’t know where the hell he could’ve possibly gathered that information just from _looking_ at her.  “How-”

“I thought you were supposed to be dead.”

She couldn’t help but give him a sardonic look.  Really?  “Pot, meet kettle.”

He snorted in amusement, and she tried not to smile.  “Fair enough.” He gave her another once-over. “What do you want to know?” He asked finally, and she felt briefly vindicated before getting back to business.

“Habits,” She replied immediately.  “Known contacts, hideouts, people he’d likely end up working for.”

He continued to stare at her.  Then, “There was this guy he was always following around back when they both worked for me.  Robert Cmelak. Between the two of them, he was the brains. Where one went, so did the other.  I’ll eat my shoes if Cmelak isn’t the guy you’re really looking for.”

Stephanie nodded.  “Well, thanks, I guess,” She said.  She turned to go.

“Wait,” Jason said.  She glanced back at him.  He brows were furrowed slightly.  “Carla Tang. Did she make it?”

Stephanie paused.  She considered this.  He seemed sincere, and once again she was reminded of how working girls had supposedly been under his protection.  She wondered if this would’ve happened if he hadn't been locked up. It was unlikely. Not only did he look out for prostitutes, but the guys who started the trafficking had been under his thumb.  They wouldn’t have had the resources or availability to try anything like this if he’d been around. Irony at it’s finest. 

“Yeah,” Steph said.  “Doctor’s say she’ll make a full recovery.” 

Jason seemed to relax ever so slightly at that.  He nodded. “Good.” 

She turned to leave again.  Out of curiosity, she glanced at the cells on either side of Jason’s.  Two-Face and Riddler. Huh. She’d hate to be stuck between those tw-

The thought occurred to her so fast she got whiplash.  She spun around. This was the maximum security wing. For the most dangerous people Gotham had to offer.  People like the Joker. The Joker, who had murdered the second Robin, who was currently locked up with him.  Jason, who’d begun to walk back to his bed, raised a brow at her sudden whirl.  She ignored it, walking back up to the glass. “The Joker,” She said.

In an instant, a blank mask had fallen over his face.  The look in his eyes was much more flat, and she could see the tension in his shoulders.  The little color left in his face had drained away, but maybe that was her imagination. She didn’t think it was.

“Where is he?”

Jason just kept staring at her.  Then he jerked his head to the left, a violent and sharp movement.  “Four doors,” He muttered, practically forcing the words out of his mouth.

Stephanie couldn’t breathe for a split second.  “What the fuck,” She whispered. Then, louder, “What the fuck?”

He continued to stare at her.  “That’s…” She couldn’t even finish the sentence.  If she was stuck in a small room, all day, for presumably the rest of her life, four doors down from Black Mask…

She knew what it was like to be pissed at Arthur Brown.  She knew what it was like to be pissed at Dean. She knew what it was like to be pissed at Tim Drake.  She knew what it was like to be pissed at Bruce Wayne. And now, she knew what it was like to be pissed at Dick Grayson.  A burning, bubbling rage started in the pit of her gut, reminiscent of lava. It must’ve shown on her face, because Jason raised a brow again.

“I’m gonna murder him,” She snarled, and spun on her heel.  Jason didn’t say anything this time.

When Stephanie was outside of Arkham, her comm buzzed in her ear, and Oracle’s voice came through.  “Batgirl, what the hell were you just doing?” She demanded. “Did you just see Red Hood?”

“You can yell at me later,” Steph replied, the anger still burning hot in her gut.  “Right now, I need a favor.”

She might not be able to get Jason out, but she could at least get him away. 

 

*

 

As it would turn out, Stephanie’s hard work to get Jason transferred into a different part of Arkham would end up being fruitless, as there would be a massive breakout two short weeks later, Jason among the ones that escaped.  She wouldn’t actually see him until three months later.

Stephanie really show know better than to bring Batarangs to gun fights.  But here she was.

They had her pinned behind a dumpster, and she was almost offended by that.  On the other hand, a shotgun blast just hit it, and she was unscathed. So.

She could drop a smoke pellet and get up to the nearby fire-escape for a better vantage point, but she’d have to move fast.  She didn’t know if the thugs would stop shooting or not when they lost sight of her, but she couldn’t count on it. The smart thing would be to save bullets until they had visual, but Gotham thugs weren’t known for intelligence.

Just as she was about to drop the pellet and run for it, another spattering of gunfire made her pause.  She peaked out from her hiding spot and gaped at what she saw. The Red Hood, taking out thugs left and right.

Well.  That was a good distraction.

Stephanie vaulted over the dumpster, coming up behind the nearest goon and slamming her hands against his ears.  He crumpled, but she kicked in his knee for good measure and threw the gun as far from him as she could.  She kneed the next idiot in the kidneys, slammed his head against the wall, and emptied his gun.  The next two went down similarly. She twisted around, ready to jump at the next thug, only to realize they’d all been taken care of.

Red Hood stood a good few yards away, his guns still out.  She hadn’t forgotten that he killed people, but it had been shoved to the back of her mind, and now her heart jumped into her throat.  She really didn’t want to fight him, and she wasn’t completely confident she’d win anyways. Muscle and height aside, he still had more training than her.  And also guns, the triggers of which he still had his fingers on.  She began steeling herself for what was about to come.  Steph glanced at the men who were lying near Red Hood, and… huh.  Incapacitated, some unconscious, but not dead. She dropped her stance.

“Batgirl,” Hood said, voice sounding robotic through his dumb helmet.  Shouldn’t he be called the Red _Helmet?_

“Red Hood,” She replied warily.  This was still the guy who’d made Gotham’s crime world his bitch and attacked Tim.  “I had that handled, you know.”

“I know,” He agreed.  She squinted at him, hands on her hips, but it didn’t sound like he was making fun of her.

There was an awkward pause.  Neither of them were done talking, but neither of them knew what to say next.

“What’re you doing here, anyways?” Steph asked.

She couldn’t see his expression behind the helmet, but she could guess he was raising his eyebrow.  “In… Gotham?”

“I meant -” She waved her hand to the thugs lying on the ground.

He lifted on shoulder in a shrug.  “Passing through.”

She didn’t quite believe him, but let it slide.  He continued, “Do you not have backup?”

Now it was her who shrugged.  “I’ve got Oracle,” She said.

“What about-” He trailed off, not finishing the sentence.  But she knew who he meant anyways.

She rolled her eyes.  “Batman and I currently aren’t speaking.”  Not that they’d been really speaking in the first place.  Given the disaster that was their first meeting and the begrudging attitude he’d had towards her during her so-far short tenure as Batgirl, she wouldn’t be calling him ‘big brother’ anytime soon.

He very clearly hesitated.  “That's not… because of me. Is it?”

She crossed her arms now, feeling her cheeks burn a little.  It did seem kind of… silly, when spoken aloud. “I don’t really associate with people who lock their little brothers up with said little brother’s murderer,” She said, tilting her chin up.  “No matter what that little brother may or may not have done.”

There was a longer pause.  Jason just stared at her, enough that she was wishing she’d never opened up her mouth, but then he said, “You do realize that you’ve still got a bat on your chest, right?”

She looked down, a little surprised.  “Well… yeah, but-” She stuttered - “that doesn’t have anything to do with D - Batman.  Or, the _other_ Batman.”

Jason continued to stare.  Or, at least she thought. That damn helmet really made it hard.  “I kill people, BG,” He said. “I’ve killed a lot of people. Your boyfriend was almost one of them.”

“I know,” She snapped.  “I’m not an idiot, and I’m not naive.  And he’s not even my boyfriend anymore.  How the hell did you even - you know what?  No. I don’t care. I’ve only ever heard of you killing bad people which, yeah, isn’t great or even good, but it’s kind of understandable.  Besides. You didn’t kill anyone tonight.” She gestured again at the thugs around them. Some were starting to stir. She’d have to get them tied up soon.

There was yet another pause.  “I figured you’d get pissed if I did,” Jason admitted.  He seemed almost taken aback by her little outburst. “Besides.  I don’t even know if they deserve it.”

Steph felt oddly flattered at that, but she wasn’t sure why.  And the second part of that sentence seemed to say a lot more about him than anything else anyone had told her about him.  She nodded anyways. “See? Now, can you help me tie these guys up?”

The thugs were subsequently tied to light posts, the cops were called, and Stephanie and Jason watched from a nearby roof as they showed up.

“Why’d you-” Jason started, then stopped.  “Why’d you get me moved? In Arkham?”

She watched him.  He’d removed the helmet, revealing the domino mask beneath, and was still watching as the cops cleaned the area up.  “It’s a shitty thing, what they did to you,” She said. The huffiness from earlier was gone. Now she just felt that weird kind of sad that settled in your gut and refused to leave for days on end.  “A really shitty thing.”

Since their first meeting, she’d accessed Barbara’s files on him.  She read all of them, in all their horribly detailed thoroughness, and found herself wanting to resurrect Bruce from the grave just so she could kill him again.  She later felt a little guilty for thinking that.

“One could argue I’ve done shittier things,” He pointed out, and it made Stephanie a little angry again.  A more protective kind of angry.

“No,” She said flatly.

He was looking at her now, looking over her as if just seeing her for the first time.  “When you say ‘they,’” He began, “who, exactly, do you mean?”

She shrugged.  “Joker. Bruce. Dick. The world, maybe. Take your pick.”

Jason chuckled a little bitterly at that.  “Yeah,” He sighed. “But… thanks.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” She said, “you’ve pulled a lot of shit I don’t approve of.  But some of it, in context-” She took out her grapple - “it’s understandable, I guess." 

He continued to stare at her.  She walked over to the the ledge of the building.  She moved slowly, giving Jason enough time to say something if he wanted.  She was standing with one foot on the ledge, grapple at the ready, and she knew he wasn’t going to say anything.  She stamped down on her disappointment. 

_He’s a killer._

A killer, who asked about Carla Tang, helped Steph out tonight, didn’t kill anyone because he knew she wouldn’t like it (and because he didn’t have the whole story), and thanked her for fixing something that never even should’ve happened in the first place.

_He hurt Tim.  He tried to kill Bruce, and Dick._

But he also tried to kill Black Mask.

“Hey,” Jason said suddenly, just as Steph was about to leave.

She turned slightly to look at him.  “Yeah?” She asked, trying not to sound hopeful.

“The trafficking ring.  How’d it go?”

Stephanie grinned, sharp and bloody.  “You were right; it was Cmelak. Beat the shit out of him and his friends.  Saved the girls.”

Jason nodded, his lips twitching up slightly.  He put his helmet back on, the eye lenses lighting up white.  He started backing up towards the other side of the building, raising two of his fingers in a salute.  “See you around, BG.”

He leapt off the roof.  Steph smirked to herself.  “See you around, Hood.”

 

*

 

Stephanie dropped down into the Clock Tower, already pushing her cowl back.  Barbara was sitting in front of her monitors, typing rapidly.  Steph couldn't see what it was.

“Hey,” She said.  Barbara just hummed in response.

After a few minutes, the typing finally ceased and Barbara turned around.  There was that look on her face that usually indicated a scolding, and Stephanie couldn't help but wince.

“The Red Hood,” Barbara said cooly, and Steph bit back a groan.

“I know, I know,” She whined.  “But _he_ helped _me_ , alright?  I didn't contact him or whatever.”

Babs looked at her skeptically.  “All of the perps you detained tonight were alive,” She said slowly.

“Uh, yeah, I’d sure hope so.”

Babs gave her another look.  Stephanie relented, “He said he was in the neighborhood.  He was just returning the favor for how I helped him with the Arkham thing.”  She didn't actually know that, but it seemed like a fair assumption. “It's not like we're gonna be getting coffee together every week.”

Barbara tapped her fingers against the arms of her wheelchair thoughtfully.  “You know, I don’t think you ever gave me a straight answer for why you did that,” She said, in an odd voice.

Steph crossed her arms.  “Would _you_ wanna be locked up indefinitely four doors down from the Joker?”

Barbara stilled, her eyes sparking in a dangerous way.  Stephanie winced again. Okay, maybe that had crossed the line, but she hadn't exactly meant it _that_ way-

She said, “I - I mean -”

“No,” said Barbara.  “I wouldn't.” Her voice was clipped and clear, but there was now a softness in her expression.

She had tutored Jason, once upon a time.  Babysat him, really.  She had to have missed him.  Just another thing about how fucked this whole thing was.

Babs turned around, going back to her monitors.  “You can head in for tonight.”

It was a clear dismissal, and Stephanie felt rebuffed.  Rebuffed, and embarrassed, and still sort of sad and angry.  Man, she wasn't equipped for all this stupid family drama.

 

*

 

Stephanie came to lying in a dirty alley, surrounded by trash and waste and rats.  There was a big red spot in her blurred vision. She blinked a few times. She squeezed her eyes, willed them to focus, and opened them again.  The big red spot was actually a dumb red helmet.

“Good, you're awake,” said Jason fucking Todd.  “We've got to stop meeting like this.”

“Like what?” Stephanie propped herself up on one elbow, her other hand flying towards her head when the pounding became apparent.

“Me, saving your ass.”

She gave him a look for that.  “You didn't save my - what even happened?”

“You fell off a roof,” Jason said matter-of-factly.  “Then one of the guys came down here and kicked you in the ribs a couple of times.”

Well.  That explained the… everything.  “Wh - did you _stop_ them?  Or did you just sit and watch them beat me up?”

He hummed.  “Little bit of both,” He said.

She glared at him, but stopped when her vision began to swim again.  “I hate you.” She slowly laid back down on the ground.

“...Batgirl?”

“Just leave me here.”

He snorted.  He wrapped his hands around her wrists and starting pulling her up.  She have a mild sound of protest. “C’mon, you big baby,” He said, “up and at ‘em.  Can you walk?”

“I think so,” She said.  Now that she was upright, her ribs hurt a lot more than they did a few seconds ago, and she immediately considered laying back down.

“Anything broken?”

Stephanie shook her head.  “Just bruised, I’m pretty sure.”

Jason wrapped an arm around her waist.  She hadn't realized she'd been swaying. Not thinking about it, she threw an arm around his shoulders and slumped against him.  He snickered a little at that, but she didn't have the energy to feel offended. “You’ve got a place we can patch you up, or…?”

She shifted.  “Well,” She said, “I’ve got my apartment.  And the Clock Tower.”

He sighed.  “C’mon,” He said, and started walking.

“Where are we going?”

“I've got a safe house nearby.”

She blinked.  “You could at least buy me dinner first.”

He snorted.  “Well, are you hungry?”

She opened her mouth, but her growling stomach beat her to it.  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

She nodded her head, her cheeks feeling hot.

It didn’t take them long to reach his safe house.  Unsteady as she was, Steph could still move fast, and Jason didn’t try to coddle her.  She appreciated it. She knew she really shouldn’t be trusting him like this (for all she knew, this could be an elaborate plot to kill her and leave her body in an elaborate place for Batman to find), but she couldn’t quite bring herself to care.  She wasn’t sure if she trusted him, but it was close.

It took him much longer than she would’ve assumed for him to disengage his security.  It was disconcerting. “Why is this taking you, like, three years?” She asked impatiently.

“It’s a lot to disable.”

“Are you _that_ paranoid?”

“Eh.  Depends on the day.”

He finally opened the door and they stumbled through.  Stephanie wanted to ask why they didn’t use a window, but figured it was because she probably wouldn’t have been able to get in that way, what with the concussion and bruised ribs and what she figured was a sprained wrist.

He deposited her on the couch and disappeared into the kitchen without another word.  His safe house was nice. Like, _really_ nice.  It was so clean, it looked like an open house.  There was a giant bookshelf filled as much as it could be with books, decorative swords (or, thinking about whose house she was in, not so decorative) displayed on the wall, and oddly enough, a PS4 and a TV off in the corner.  It had a warm homey feel to it, and she oddly loved it.

Jason returned with some bandages, a bottle of painkillers, and two ice packs.  He tossed them all at her. She squawked, fumbling to catch them all.

He’d taken off his helmet, and his domino.  She’d seen his full face before, but it was still odd.  “Can you patch yourself up?” He asked.

“Uh, yeah, but-”

“Cool.  What are you in the mood for, food wise?”

“Um, whatever you’ve got, I guess.”

“Okay.”

He went back into what must’ve been the kitchen, leaving Steph to her own devices.  Huh. This was probably one of the most surreal things that had ever happened to her, and that was saying something.  She was sitting on the couch of one of the city’s worst crime bosses, patching herself up from a fight while he made her food.  What an odd existence this was.

She had to take off the top portion of her suit to reach her ribs, including the cowl, but she had an undershirt under it.  She pressed an ice pack to her torso, balanced the other on her head, wrapped her wrist, and swallowed the painkillers.

Something smelled good, from the kitchen.  Curious, Stephanie stood and stumbled in that direction.

Jason was making pancakes, of all things.  There were two on the pan, that she could see, and a big bowl of batter.  He glanced at her over his shoulder as she walked in. “You shouldn’t be up,” He said.

She sat down at the counter.  “I’m not.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Pancakes?” She asked.

He shrugged.  “Eh. They’re fast and easy.”

“Just like you.”

He spluttered, snickering, and said, “Hey!  I resent that.”

She grinned.  It was surprisingly easy to talk to him, falling back on playfully ribbing each other.  The pancakes were finished and subsequently devoured.

“I think these might be the best pancakes I’ve ever had in my entire life,” Steph said through a mouthful.  “I think I’m gonna have to post it on Instagram. Red Hood, scourge of Gotham’s underworld, professional maker of pancakes.”

Jason smirked.  “Wait till you try my waffles.”

Stephanie gaped at him.  “I think you might be my food soulmate.”

He laughed.

 

*

 

They kept running into each other, if that was the right word.  Stephanie kept straying a little towards the East End, Jason kept straying a little out of it, and they both kept acting like it was a coincidence.

They’d fight crime, they’d stop for burgers or waffles or whatever, and they’d talk about stupid shit that didn't matter.

(Sometimes it mattered.  Jason offhandedly mentioned Willis one night, and Steph started talking about Arthur, and then it all came tumbling out.  Catherine and Crystal. Joker and Black Mask. Bruce. You know. Light-hearted stuff.

Not all in one night, of course.  It was gradual, but still fast enough that it might as well have been in one night.)

Babs hadn’t said anything, despite obviously knowing.  Steph didn't really care. She liked hanging out with someone who wasn't judgmental and didn't hold her to ridiculous standards.  She liked hanging out with another bad Robin, another _dead_ Robin.

Jason killed people, yeah.  But not anyone who didn't deserve it, and not when they worked together.  He admitted that attacking Tim had been unwarranted, a cheap shot at Bruce.  She admitted there were times where she missed Bruce.

They were two sides of the same coin.  They understood each other. It was nice.  It was a downright relief.  She’d never had a big brother before.

She didn't see Dick and Damian much.  Bruce was gone, Tim was gone, Cass was gone.  But she had Jason, and that was enough.


	2. Chapter 2

Of course, it didn't last.

Suddenly, she was seeing Dick and Damian more.  Bruce was back, Tim was back, Cass was back.

Cass was back, though.  That was great. She was back, and she had stories, and she could tell them a lot better than she would've been able to.  It was nice to see Tim, too, despite everything. Being a bad boyfriend aside, he was still a good friend. And then there was Bruce.  Bruce, who wasn't dead, but had been lost in time.  Apparently. Bruce, who finally, _finally_ approved of her. Bruce, who wanted her to be Batgirl.

Not that Stephanie cared.  Because she didn't.  She didn't care one bit.

But… it was nice, was all.

Dick finally warmed up to her.  Barbara mentored her. Damian tolerated her.  Bruce approved of her. Cass was her best friend.  Tim was back, and was okay. She was Batgirl.

Things were good.  Everything was good.  Everything was _great_.

But something was missing.  Someone.

 

**> > jay**

**3:12 am**

**hey idk if you heard**

**don’t know how you would’ve but**

**b is back**

**call me?**

 

**3:55 am**

**now is not the time to be ignoring me dude**

**jaaaaaaaay**

 

**7:17 am**

**just lemme know ur ok??**

 

She figured Jason wouldn’t want to see Bruce, but she at least figured he’d want to know what’s happening.

The next two days were a haze of tears and reunions and confessions and I-told-you-sos (mostly from Tim), and by the end of it Stephanie was more than ready to go beat up some idiots in her glorified purple fursuit.  Everyone else was at the Cave, but she really did not have the patience or the energy for that.  Luckily for her, she still had the Clock Tower. She was out on the rooftops in no time.

Everything always seemed so much smaller from up high.  So much clearer. All of her problems were smaller and almost inconsequential from up here.  She sat on the ledge of a skyscraper, dangling her feet over the ledge. There was a light breeze, too.  The irrational part of her thought it’d knock her off the edge, and her constant battle with gravity would finally have a winner. The rest of her just thought the breeze felt nice.

She felt his presence before she saw or heard him.  A tingling on the back of her neck. The instinct hadn’t been taught to her, and she didn’t know when she finally picked it up.  Maybe _he_ taught her.

Jason flopped down next to her, holding his helmet in his hands.  He didn’t have a domino on tonight. He was staring pointedly at somewhere in the distance like it had personally wronged him in some way.  Stephanie frowned.

“So.” He said, still not looking at her.

When he didn’t continue, she prompted, “So…”

“Bruce is back.” His tone was flat, and it sent alarm bells off in her head.

“Yeah,” She said slowly.  “He’s back. Wasn’t even actually dead, according to Tim.  Just lost in time, or something. I wasn’t really paying attention.”

Jason nodded.  They sat in silence for a few minutes.  Stephanie kicked her feet back and forth.  She could tell he was upset, but she wasn’t going to break the silence first, or even at all.  Bruce approved of her being Batgirl. He wanted it. He still seemed all gruff and asshole-y, but to a slightly lesser extent.  Maybe being lost in time had given him some perspective. She glanced at Jason. She sure as hell hoped so. If not, she’d punch him as many as times as it took for him to get his head out of his ass.

“I didn’t know if I missed him or not,” Jason said suddenly.  “Sometimes I was happy the bastard was gone, other times it felt like there was a giant gaping hole in my chest and I couldn’t breathe.  I wanted him dead for so long, but then he was actually dead and… I don’t know. I don’t know.

“I thought maybe… maybe making him kill the Joker would… not _fix_ things, but make them better?  I thought it’d show he’d still care about me.  That he still cared enough to protect me. I was wrong.  I was so _wrong_.”

Stephanie thought her heart was breaking into pieces.  “You weren’t,” She said quickly, putting a hand on his shoulder.  “He still loves you, Jason. He still cares. He’s just horrible at showing it. Like, award-winningly bad.”

Jason shook his head, his expression pinched.  “I’m not sure about that, Steph. I’m not sure about a lot of things.”

She waited for him to elaborate.  He didn’t, so she asked, “How do you mean?”

He was looking down at his hands now.  “I forget things,” He mumbled. “I forget how my classrooms looked.  I forget the names of my teachers. I forget what mornings at the manor were like. I forget my mom’s birthday. I forgot my own birthday the other week. I had to hack into hospital records to find out.

“I forget a lot of stuff after the Pit, too.  The first six or so months after are a haze of just… feelings, but I can’t remember why I was feeling them.  Sometimes I feel like I’m walking through a fog of faces and sounds and feelings that are all familiar, but I have no idea why.  I don’t remember any of them, but I know I’ve seen them all before.”

He pressed his lips tight together, as if trying to choke down the words.  She wished he wouldn’t, but she also knew what it was like to feel that if you said just one more word, you’d unravel. “Yeah,” She said softly. “I get it.”

“You do, don’t you.” It wasn’t really a question.  They both knew the answer.

It was different, for her.  She didn’t lose memories, she lost the feeling that she was real.  Sometimes it felt like she really _was_ dead.  Like she was just air, and any minute she was going to slip away.  It wasn’t the same, wasn’t all that similar, but there were times neither of them felt real, and misery loves company.

“I don’t think I can stay in Gotham, Steph,” Jason said.  He was looking at her, now.

She sighed, putting her hand back in her laps and turning away from him.  She didn’t think she could handle looking him in the eye right now. “Yeah,” She said.  “I thought you might say that.”

“I need to get out of my head.”

“I know.” She closed her.  “Believe me, I know. A year in Africa, remember?”

Jason snorted softly.  “Yeah.”

There was another silence.  Cass and Tim and Bruce were back, but Jason was leaving.  It should’ve been an easy trade. It wasn’t.

Stephanie turned and threw her arms around him.  He tensed, but quickly melted into the embrace, wrapping his arms around her in turn.  She told herself that her eyes were watering because the wind had suddenly picked up.

“I’m really glad you’re alive,” She mumbled, “so please try to keep it that way.”

His arms tightened around her.  “I’ll try my best,” He said softly.

“Good.” She finally pulled back.  “I’m really gonna miss you.”

He looked away, rubbing at his nose.  “I’m gonna miss you too, kid.”

“I’m barely two years younger than you.”

“It counts.”

They smiled sadly at each other.  It was an argument they’d had repeatedly, but it never seemed to get old.  He stood, putting his helmet back on. “I’ll see you around, BG,” He said. “Promise.”

Stephanie nodded.  “I’ll see you around, Hood.”

Then he was gone.

She turned back towards the horizon, defeated.  She felt like a balloon that had been released, letting all of it’s air out and spinning wildly before crashing into the ground.  But it didn’t matter. The first step to being a Bat was burying your emotions, particularly what was bothering you.  Stephanie had never been great at that, but she was beginning to get a grasp on the practice.

She stood, ready to resume patrol.  She was just about to set off when she noticed the figure on the opposite roof, watching her.  Her heart dropped. She hoped he hadn’t been there long, but she’d never been the luckiest of folks.

 

*

 

Stephanie finished patrol without incident.  But when she got to the clock tower, a disaster was waiting for her.

A disaster in the shape of Bruce and Dick standing besides Barbara.  She gritted her teeth, already _knowing_ , and dropping in.

“A ‘welcome home’ party, huh?” She asked, tone deceptively light.  “I thought we’d already had one of those.”

Bruce, who had taken off the cowl, turned to face her.  His eyes were steely and his arms were crossed. Stephanie bit back a scowl, bracing herself.  Not even three days and they were already back at each other’s throats. She shouldn’t have been surprised.  She wasn’t, in a way.

Dick sighed.  “Let's not make this any more painful than it has to be, alright?” He asked, sounding tired.  He'd removed his domino mask, but was otherwise dressed for the vigilante occasion.

“Let's,” Steph snapped.  She wasn't in the mood for a fight, but if they wanted one, she was going to make them wish they'd never been born.

Dick narrowed his eyes.  “Steph, please,” He said.  “We just want to talk about Red Hood.”

“What about him?” She put her hands on her hips and tilted her chin up defiantly.  She wasn't back down, but judging from the look on Bruce’s face, he wasn't either.

“What is your relationship with him?” He demanded.

Stephanie almost laughed.  “‘My relationship with him?’” She asked incredulously.

Barbara took off her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose.  “Steph-” She began.

“He's my friend, alright?” Steph snapped.  “Jesus.”

“Your friend,” Bruce repeated flatly.

“That's what I said.”

“He's unstable,” He said sharply.  “He's a murderer.”

“He’s your _son!”_ She retorted.  “Or did five years and a funeral really make you forget that?”

“Stephanie,” Dick said warningly.

“No,” She snarled.  “You want to do this?  Fine. We're gonna do this.”

“You've been associating with a known crime boss and killer,” He said.  “He’s an Arkham escapee, for Christ’s sake.”

“While we're on the topic of Arkham,” Stephanie said, and she saw Barbara wince in the corner of her eye.  She didn't care. “Did you happen to know the Joker was locked up four doors down from him?”

Dick reared back.  “I - what?”

“What are you talking about?” Bruce growled.

“Yeah.  Four doors in between Jason and his murderer.  Fun, right?”

“I - I didn't kno-” Dick started shakily.

“Of course you didn't,” She shot back.  “How could you? It's not like you ever checked up on him.”

His eyes narrowed.  “Wait-”

“Did you really think Arkham Asylum would help him?  Seriously?”

“What the fuck else was I _supposed_ to do?!” Dick demanded, waving his hand.  “Let him keep hurting people?!”

“Maybe get him some _actual_ help!”

“He's dangerous,” Bruce interjected.  “Arkham is the safest place for him. To keep him from hurting himself and others.”

Stephanie gaped at him.  She had known they were wrong about Jason, but… Jesus.  She didn't think it was _this_ bad.  “You're kidding, right?” When she was met with blank looks, she threw her hands up in the air.  “Holy shit. He's _already_ hurt, you idiot.  He’s not crazy, he’s hurt!”

“He kills-”

“So?  So do half the people you work with.  Wonder Woman kills, for fuck’s sake! One of your closest friends!  And guess what - that’s her decision. That's all of their decisions.  So why is Jason different?”

Bruce's glare was truly lethal now.  Steph had long since grown immune. He said, “You _know_ why he's different, Stephanie.”

“Maybe from them, sure.” She shrugged.  “But why is he different from Damian?”

“Damian is a _child,”_ Bruce snarled, but he was obviously taken aback.  “Killing was all he was raised to do.”

“And Jason wasn't?  Jason, who grew up in the worst neighborhood in the worst city in the world, surrounded by violence, with a convict father?  Jason, who was _murdered_ as a child, and was resurrected as a child?  How the fuck is he different? Tell me.”

“Jason knows better,” He insisted.  “I taught him better.”

She scoffed.  “That has got to be the weakest excuse I've ever heard.  Damian and Cass have both killed, and they both get as many second chances as you think they deserve.  And I’m not saying they don't deserve them - of course they do. But why doesn't Jason? You can't paint the world in black and white, then change what's black and what's white when it fits your mood.

“You can't ostracize kids, shun them, isolate them - is that, is that love?  Is that parenting? Hurting kids more than they already are because of your pride and your bruised ego?  And all because you don't agree on something? You don't get to decide for other people how they're supposed to live.  You don't get to tell Jason he's wrong for wanting the bastard who tortured him and blew him up gone.

“The Joker can't hurt anyone-”

“Right now.  He can't hurt anyone _right now,_ but we all know it's only a matter of time before he breaks out again and hurts more people.  You might have the privilege of trusting the system to work, but not everyone does. When people like the Joker get out - and they always get out- it's the little people that get hurt.  Like Jason.”

_Like Babs.  Like me._

They were all silent for a long moment, and Stephanie felt incredibly vindicated.  “And fuck you for being an asshole to me, too,” She added, just for good measure. “You never had any right to decide what I choose to do, or not to do, or how I do it.  You still don't.”

She turned to go, but spun back around.  “And you know what else? I've always been good enough.  I've always been _damn_ good.  I pity you for not being able to get your head out of your ass long enough to see that.”

Not waiting for a response, she leapt through the window, grappled away, went home, and spent the next hour screaming into her pillow.

 

*

 

Stephanie skipped patrol the next night.  Not only did she not want to deal with anymore bullshit from all those stupid Bat _men_ , but she had a few essays she'd been neglecting.  She found it hard to focus, though. She was still fuming from the night before.

When the interaction replayed itself for the hundredth time, she threw her pen down and shouted, “Fuck Batman!”  What or who she was shouting at, she really had no idea.

She kept trying, but she knew it was futile.  She set her laptop and papers aside. Standing, she headed out of her room towards the kitchen.  Hot chocolate sounded really good right now.

She hadn't even finished pouring it to a mug when there was a tapping on her window.  Steph was very proud of the fact that she didn't jump. She turned and sighed when she saw Nightwing perched outside.

She walked over, sliding it open.  Warm air floated in.

“Hi,” He said, hesitantly.

“Hi,” She said slowly.  “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to… apologize?  I’m not sure yet. Something like that.”

‘Something like that.’  A pretty shitty apology, if she did say so herself.  She stepped aside anyways, and he came in. He looked around.  “Cute,” He said.

“Uh, thanks.”

He rubbed the back of his head.  “Look. About yesterday… a lot of the things you said were true.  And Bruce’ll never admit it, but he thinks so, too. Especially about how you've been treated since your whole vigilante career began.  So, this is me, trying to make up for that.” He held out his hand. “Hello. It's nice to meet you. I’m Dick.”

Steph stared at his hand, not quite believing it.  She slowly took it, shaking it. “I’m Stephanie,” She said.

He smiled.  “Nice to me you, Stephanie,” He replied earnestly.

They separated, and she folded her arms.  “I’m still kind of mad at you,” She informed him.

“That's fair.” He moved back towards the window.  “I've got a patrol to get on, but - I’ll see you around?”

She sighed, nodding her head.  “Yeah. You will.”

His smile widened, and then he back-flipped out the window.  She shut it. She grabbed her cocoa and walked back towards her room, the tight knot of fury in her stomach faded just a little bit. She could appreciate his sentiment, but she was still allowed to be pissed. It was harder to direct it at Dick, though, with the sincerity in his smile.  She punched her pillow.

 

*

 

When Stephanie thought about when she'd see Jason again, she didn't think he'd be with an alien and some weird archer, but life rarely goes the direction you think it will. 

She had just fallen off a roof when suddenly she was going the opposite way, in the arms of a glowing, six-foot tall, orange woman with big curly red hair that was on fire.  Or maybe made of fire. It was hard to tell.

Next thing she knew, she was being deposited on a separate roof and a familiar voice was saying, “Seriously, BG?  How many times am I gonna have to save your ass?”

Stephanie spun around, and sure enough, Jason was stood opposite of her.  The squeal that emitted from her mouth was not a sound she consciously chose to make.  She flung herself at him, wrapping him in a giant bear hug. He stumbled, but returned it, laughing quietly.

“Yeah, yeah,” He said softly.  “It's good to see you, too.”

When Steph pulled back, she was grinning.  “For the record,” She said, “it was your friend who saved my ass, not you.”

“I saved it by association.”

There was a cough from behind them.  They turned. The archer was there, and the woman - who was probably the most ethereal woman Stephanie had ever seen, holy shit - was floating a bit higher next to him.  “Yeah,” the archer said, gesturing to him and the woman. “Still here.”

She could practically hear the eye roll in Jason’s tone.  “Batgirl, meet Starfire and Arsenal,” He said. “Starfire and Arsenal, meet Batgirl.”

“Oh.  Uh, hey.”  She waves awkwardly.  She’d heard of them, of course.  They were pretty famous, after all.  She wasn't intimidated. Nope. Not one bit.

Arsenal nodded at her.  “Hey.”

Starfire had a wide smile on her face.  “It is good to finally meet you,” She said.  “Jason has told us a lot about you.”

Steph smirked.  She elbowed Jason, giving him a look, which he adamantly ignored.  “Has he now?”

“Oh, yes-”

“Hey,” Jason interrupted loudly.  “Me and BG here have a lot of catching up to do, so how ‘bout I see you guys later?”

Arsenal snorted.  “Right,” He said. “Holler if you need anything.”

“I won't.”

Starfire grabbed Arsenal by the arm, waved goodbye, and they took off.  Stephanie watched them go in awe, tracking Starfire’s orange and pink form.  “Hood,” She said, “I think I might be in love.”

Jason snickered.  “Yeah. That's what everyone thinks the first time they see her.  So, waffles?”

Steph nodded, eyes still stuck on where they'd disappeared.  “Waffles.”

 

*

 

They ended up getting chicken and waffles, along with an overabundance of fries.

Turns out, Jason had quite a few stories to tell.  Steph’s, by comparison, seemed a little dull, but he didn't think so.

“Wait, let me get this straight,” He said, delighted.  “You got kidnapped by Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn, and ended up just having a girl’s night with them?”

“Yep.”

“That's incredible.”

“I mean, it was kind of cool.  They're actually pretty fun, when they're not causing mass mayhem.”

They talked for an hour, maybe two, and Steph felt a massive weight being lifted from her shoulders.  The person who'd kept her sane through months of isolation was finally back, and she couldn't be happier.  He seemed happier, too. Lighter. There was a few big elephants that needed to be addressed, however.

“Well,” Stephanie began, at Jason’s prompting, “things feel almost normal with Ca- Black Bat around.  It really hadn't felt like Gotham without her. Nightwing is being less of a dick, pun intended. Red Robin and I are friends again, which is cool.  Oh, and Robin is still a little gremlin, but he's learning. He's got a dog, a cat, and a cow, now.”

Jason raised one of his brows at the mention of Bat-cow, but otherwise took it all in stride.  “And the big brooding asshole?” He asked, after a few short minutes of hesitant silence.

Her nose wrinkled.  She stuffed some fries in her mouth.  “Still an asshole,” She mumbled. “I… may have yelled at him… just a teeny bit.  A few months ago, right after you left. Haven’t really spoken to him much since.”

“Yeah?  About what?”

“Well…”

She told him what happened, in a slightly abridged version, including what happened with Nightwing the next night.  At the end of it, Jason gave a low whistle. “Damn,” He said. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

Steph smiled a bit sheepishly.  “He deserved it.”

“No shit.” Jason stared down at his half-eaten meal.  “I didn't ask you to do that, but… thanks. For sticking up for me.”

She touched his forearm.  “Of course,” She said. He smiled at her.

His eyes flicked to something off to the side, and he tensed.  She immediately turned to look and scowled. Bruce was two roofs over, standing in the shadows like the weird brooding asshole he was.  “Shit,” She said.

They both stood hastily.  “I can distract him,” She offered.  “Let you get out of here.”

Jason opened his mouth to respond, but it was too late.  “Batgirl,” Bruce said. “Red Hood.”

He was on their rooftop now, albeit on the opposite side.  Stephanie stepped in front of Jason, crossing her arms.

“Batgirl, Black Bat could use a hand down at the docks,” Bruce told her, but she got the distinct feeling he wasn't looking at her.

“Yeah, no,” She said hotly.  “I’m not going anywhere.”

Jason nudged her.  “It's fine,” He said softly.

She looked at him, surprised.  He didn't look happy, but he also didn't look like he was about to lose it in any way, shape, or form.  A little resigned, a little annoyed, but ultimately determined. “Are you sure?” She asked.

He nodded.  She looked between the two of them.  “If you try anything,” She finally said to Bruce, “I’ll get Nightwing’s escrima sticks and electrocute you in the balls with them.  No joke.”

Bruce just grunted.  Huffing, Steph turned around and grappled away, feeling like she'd just mixed two highly explosive chemicals.

 

*

 

As it turns out, Cass didn't really need help down at the docks.  The weapons smugglers were already being taken into police custody when Stephanie showed up.

She dropped down besides Cass, who already knew she was there.  She crossed her arms, worry twisting her gut.

Cass tilted her head.  “You're mad,” She said.  “And worried.”

Steph nodded.  There was no point in ever pretending otherwise with Cass, and she didn't really want to either way.

“Is it about Red Hood?”

Stephanie blinked.  “How'd you know?”

“Oracle.”

Of course.  She didn’t have to ask how Oracle knew.

“Yeah,” She said, sitting down.  Cass sat down next to her. “I just saw him.  I left was because Batman showed up.”

Cass hummed.  She was looking up at the sky.  “Think they’ll fight?”

“Maybe.  Probably.  I don’t know.”  Steph scrubbed at her eyes.  It was late. She looked up at the sky too.  The stars weren’t very visible, due to light pollution, but they were more visible near the docks than anywhere else in Gotham.

“He’s a killer,” Cass said slowly, almost as if asking a question.

Steph groaned.  “Not you, too.” She covered her face with her hands.  This shtick was getting real old real fast. “He’s not perfect, okay?  He’s not even great. But… he’s good, okay? He’s a good guy, and a good friend, and-”

 _A good brother,_ is what she didn’t say.  It felt awkward to say it out loud.  Maybe she was just projecting, because she was an only child and had been starving for any human contact that wasn’t another starving college student for a couple of months after getting dumped by her closest friends but -

Wow.  That was so much sadder when put into perspective.  Maybe she just imprinted on Jason like a baby bird. Whatever, he was still her friend.

Cass was silent for a second.  She was looking at Stephanie now, critical, even through the mask.  Finally, she said, “I believe you.”

Steph blinked.  “What?”

“I believe you.  You’re good, so if you think he’s good, then… he’s good.”

She couldn’t quite believe her ears.  It was simple logic when put like that, but she could’ve cried from relief.  Of course Cass was the one who got it. “You really think so?” Cass nodded. “What about Bruce?”

Cass’ nose wrinkled.  “Bruce… isn’t always right.”

Steph snorted.  “You said it.”

“I want to meet him.”

“Who, Jason?”

“Yes.  He’s… my little brother.  Technically. Even if he kills.”

“Hm.  Yeah, I guess he technically is.  But he’s also legally dead, so maybe not.”

Cass shrugged.  There was another silence.  “Do you think he’d stop killing?” She asked softly.

 _Probably not._  But that wasn’t the answer she was looking for, so Stephanie hesitated.  Could he be persuaded to work with them and not kill? Sure. He never killed when he patrolled with her, so it was already sort of established.  But she doubted he’d ever stop killing all together.

“I don’t know,” Steph said.  “Maybe there could be some sort of agreement, but…”  She trailed off, and Cass frowned unhappily.

Steph sighed.  She nudged Cass in the side, standing up.  “C’mon,” She said. “God knows this city’s not gonna protect itself.”

 

*

 

Patrolling Cass was always the best.  Patrol wasn’t something to be considered fun, what with fighting against a city that tried it’s hardest to stop their efforts in making it a better place, but somehow she always made it a fun affair.  When Stephanie got home, she felt a little bit better.  She’d forgotten about Jason and Bruce for a good while there.  She was still worried, of course, but now she felt a little more at ease.  Until she saw that the light in her kitchen was on.

Jason sat at her counter, still eating the fries they’d bought hours ago.  “You forgot your waffles,” He said. He didn’t look any different, aside from a black eye that would look nasty the next day.

Stephanie immediately walked over to the freezer and grabbed a bag of peas, tossing them at him.  He caught it one-handed, but just set it on the counter. “How’d it go?” She asked. “Did he give you the-” She gestured to his face.

He shook his head.  “Nah, I stopped a mugger on the way here.”  He kept eating, then said, “It… went. I guess.”

“Did you fight?”

“Sort of?  I don’t know, it was weird.  I’ll explain it more later but, long story short, we came to an understanding.”

Steph grabbed her waffles and a fork.  Thinking about it, she grabbed a fork for Jason as well, handing it to him.  “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The relief was instant.  She slumped against the counter, sighing.  “Finally,” She said. “Wait, that’s a good thing, right?”

Jason smirked, rolling his eyes.  She swatted him. “Yes, Steph,” He said.  “It’s a good thing.”

“Good.”

“So,” She prompted, bumping their shoulders together.  “Are you staying in Gotham?”

He hesitated.  He set down his fork, frowning.  It was a frown of contemplation, but it was still a frown.  She tensed. “I think I’ll be back more often,” He said slowly.  “But I don’t know about being here permanently.”

She smiled.  “I’ll take it.”  He smiled back at her.

They ate their chicken and waffles in silence.

 

*

 

“I don’t understand how you’ve never seen Mamma Mia.”

“I was _dead_ , Steph.  I haven’t seen a lot of things.”

“You weren’t dead when it came out!”

“No, but I _was_ a teenage boy with fragile masculinity.”

“…Fair.”

She flopped down on the couch besides him, a plate of hot food on her lap.  She picked one of the fried balls up, popping it into her mouth. Jason watched her closely as she chewed.  “Verdict?”

Steph hummed for a moment.  She squinted, as if thinking very hard.  “I think,” She said, “that I’m gonna have to marry you over these.”

He laughed.  “We’re both gay, Steph.”

“We can be each other’s beards,” She replied immediately.  “What are these called again?”

 _“_ _Bolitas de Yuca,”_ He said.  “You’ve gotta try it with the _cau cau_ sauce, though.”

She did.  It was heaven.  She moaned, and he laughed again.  “Seriously,” She swore, “we’re having a June wedding.”  He rolled his eyes.  She kicked his calf.  “While we’re on the topic of being gay, though,” She began, grinning when he grimaced, “how’s it going with Roy?”

He shoved at her, his face bright red.  She laughed, then screamed when one of the yuca balls fell off onto the floor.  She quickly grabbed it and shoved it in her mouth. Five-second rule, after all.

“What are we waiting for again?” He huffed, crossing his arms.  He was pouting. If she said that, he’d adamantly insist he wasn’t.

“Cass,” Steph said.  “And Duke, maybe. I think he has homework, but she’s conniving.  They better get here soon, though, because there’s not gonna be any of these left for them.”

Jason frowned.  “Okay, last time all three of you were in my apartment, you set my kitchen on fire.”

“Hey, that fire was put out almost immediately!”

“My point still stands.”

“Yeah, well.”

They went on like that until Cass and Duke arrived, then all four of them carried on like that.  Cass shushed them all though, went she pressed play on the movie. Steph lay back, letting her head fall on Jason’s shoulder.  He didn’t even seem to notice, so caught up in the music. She smiled and closed her eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> this was a lot longer and more self-indulgent than i intended but that's the whole idea babey
> 
> [tumblr](http://antifajasontodd.tumblr.com/)
> 
> thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed!


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